Let's ride!

California Classic Weekend -Mini Metric Bike Ride

May 20th

I woke up at 6am a bit hung over and burping up Sushi from the night before, to prepare to ride my bike in the California Classic Mini Metric, 35 mile bicycle ride.  A good friend let me borrow his awesome bike for the race and I was definitely grateful to be riding a bike that shifted gears properly and had brakes that worked.  I felt nervous, sick and frustrated that I had left my preparation to a hour before the ride started.  I was straggling to find out through Google what protocol was for bike races:  are camel packs ok? What if I don’t wear the recommended gloves that guidelines said to wear?

I left my house in a rush with camel pack in tow, empty stomach, and hopped on my bike and pedaled my way downtown to the starting line.  I was nervous that I wouldn’t find the starting line in enough time and that I would miss the race due to my lack of preparation and staying up late the night before.  I never did make it t the starting line, as I was about 10 minutes late.  But, I was very lucky to run into a sea of spandex on bicycles, so I joined the crowd of 1500 bicycles.

We were guided by police on all sides to the 168 Freeway.  Did I mention that this is the first freeway in California to be closed for a bike race?  10 miles of the Eastbound freeway was closed off for our riding pleasure.  And pleasure it was. 

The overpasses of the freeway were filled with supporters, cheering us on and waving huge signs.  I felt a sense of pride riding along side these people who shared the same interest as me.  I felt emotional:  happy.  I felt….sick.  I needed to eat.  I pulled over on the side of the freeway, took some pictures and pulled out a granola bar.  A cop on a motorcycle stopped along side of me, and stated that he had to wait for me while I was stopped.  With 100’s of bikers still passing me, I assured him that I was fine and that I was going to eat really quick.  Unsmiling, he nodded and continued to stare at me as I ate my granola bar.  Awkward!

I got back on my bike and pedaled on.  The weather was perfect:  cool and overcast.  Everybody was so friendly and cheering each other on.  I overheard multiple riders along the way saying that they wished they had brought their camel packs.  I started to notice pain in my lower back and hands at a more steady rate.  I should have invested in padded gloves!  I didn’t have an odometer and was stuck guessing how far I had gone.  I knew that a pit stop was scheduled for mile 17 that included bathrooms, food and water.  I decided to take another break and stretch out my back and hands.  All the riders that passed me up asked if I needed help and this one awfully cheerful guy reminiscent of an Adam Sandler movie yelled “You can do it!” 

Back on the bike again and off the freeway and in the country, I noticed a lot of road kill.  A lot.  Bumpy roads, gravel, angry drivers having to speed around us, and lot’s of road kill.  I was excited to make it to the food and water station where friendly volunteers handed us sausage wrapped pancakes.  Glancing at the long line for the porta potties, I ate my food and road on, deciding to stop somewhere else along the way.

The last half of the race seemed to go by faster and was easier than the beginning of the race.  I was very happy to race my soar butt in through the finish line at Chuckchansi Park.  I signed up for a free massage, and then headed to free tri-tip and beer area for all finishers.  As I was sitting by myself, a friendly woman sat down net to me, introduced herself and we began talking about the ride, and our bicycle riding histories to each other.  She snapped a shot of us cheersing with our beers and later emailed it to me.

I felt pretty good about myself having signing up to do the race by myself and having completed it!  I had a really good time and learned a lot about the Spandex community.  I ended up riding a total of 41 miles that day and celebrated with a little too much beer afterward.

Stats

I am at 45.85% of my pledged bike riding miles for the month of May at a whopping 95 miles so far.  With 14 days left in the month, and 110 miles left to ride, I have some riding to do! 

I will knock 35 miles out on Saturday, because, guess what!?!?  I am riding in the Eye-Q California Classic Weekend  http://www.californiaclassicweekend.com/, mini metric bike ride.  That is, if the end of the world doesn’t come first http://www.religioustolerance.org/hcamping.htm. 

This will be my first “race,” and also my first time riding 35 miles in a row.  Should be interesting.  I will also be riding a bike that was put together “one piece at a time”  (If you know the Johnny cash song, then you can somewhat picture this odd looking bike.) 

Wish me luck as I pedal my way down Highway 168!

Join @peopleforbikes in uniting a million voices to improve the future of biking. Sign the Pledge. I did.

Drama in the bike lane

On my way to my volunteering gig downtown, I witnessed a man on a bike take quite a tumble.  He was in the bike lane WAY ahead of me so it was hard to tell what had happened. 

As I approached him, he continued to lie on the cement, and was yelling unintelligible things.  I asked him if he was ok and offered to help him up.  I noticed he was an older gentlemen and was missing quite a few teeth.  In a minute I would find out that he was missing quite a few marbles as well. 

The man was yelling obscenities about a certain race, and was not making sense.  I asked him if he was hurt (as he was still lying on the ground) and he continued to yell, but this time towards me saying that a “Mothe F-ing” “blank” had hit him and that I should call the cops. 

I finally figured out that another man on a bicycle had apparently run into him and knocked him over, not a car like I had assumed.  The man, still lying on the ground, was yelling racist remarks, and I, thinking of my Cultural Competence Committee at work, felt the need to tell him that race has nothing to do with whatever had just happened. 

I should have just left him alone and deemed him crazy, because then he began yelling at me.  There were various store clerks that had come out of their businesses at this point and were staring at me and the man. 

I told the man that if he truly needed help to borrow one of the store clerks phones, and I took off.  After waiting at three red lights in a row, the racist, crazy man who had apparently dusted himself off, caught up to me on his bike and exclaimed “Darlin’ you really need to get yourself a helmet!” 

I ignored him and sped up.

Oy vey

I pledged to ride my bike 205 miles for the month of May through ibikefresno’s million mile challenge.  It’s the first week of May and I have 35 miles under my belt.  Replacing my car with my bike is a lot harder than I had anticipated. 

Fresno is heatin’ up and today the weather decided to peak at a toasty 95 degrees, and it’s the first week in May! 

My hopes for this challenge were to ride my bike as much as possible and drive my car only when absolutely necessary.  My definition of absolute necessary has changed this week.  I thought I could ride my bike to meetings I have in the community for work, but after thinking about it, I don’t feel right representing my agency and showing up to meetings on my bike, in non-dress clothes, and a little sweaty. 

Taking work out of the equation will shave off a lot of potential bike miles.  I will however try to ride my bike to all non-work appointments.  I did ride my bike to a salon appointment I had yesterday and rode round trip 14 miles.  There were no bike racks outside of the salon (Come on Fresno!) so I had to bring it inside.  One of the nail technichians gave me a dirty look:  I brought a bike into the cramped salon, I was sweaty and wearing “workout” clothes.  My ride to the salon was an adventure.  Half the trip, the roads did not have bike lanes, which means I was sharing a very narrow lane with scary drivers who assume that if you’re on a bike you are homeless or poor.  So many of the drivers would honk at me, follow closely behind me, and speed up significantly while going aorund me, only to have to break hard at the red light.  Le sigh.

It feels so weird to admit this, but in the past year having ridden my bike an average of 30 miles a week, this is the most I’ve ever been discriminated against.  There is a real hatred it seems that people who drive cars seem to have against people who ride their bikes.  I am honked at, yelled at, followed dangerously close, and have almost been hit a couple times.  At times it’s scary.  At times it’s funny.  Since I am not protected by an enclosed space of steel and aluminum, I have to watch my back and abide by the rules of the road.